


Frontier

by buttercups3



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Graphic Sex, M/M, Threesome, Uncle-niece-nephew incest, fmm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:37:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttercups3/pseuds/buttercups3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU in which Miles, his niece, and nephew embark on an adventure that leads to a different kind of family...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snowfall

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the LJ Secret Santa exchange at the request of my giftee - and what an unorthodox triad she requested! Highly enjoyable to write though. I promise you won't burst into flames when you read it. It's actually kind of sweet? ;)
> 
> (Each chapter title is a prompt she gave me.)

When Ben Matheson died, his last words to his children had been: “Bring this to your uncle Miles in Chicago. If he takes it to the Tower in Colorado Springs, he can use it to get the power back on.”  
  
With that ugly necklace thrust into her hand, Charlie and Danny began their odyssey from Sylvania Estates to Chicago to where they find themselves now, near Boulder, in the dead of winter. Colorado winters are no joke. Charlie’s not exactly a stranger to subzero, but her dad always helped cut the bitterness with steaming mugs of chamomile, merrily crackling fires, and snowball wars. Uncle Miles, in contrast, will be lucky if he can secure them a rickety roof over their heads, which he’s off trying to do at this very moment in this rotten boomtown.  
  
The desolate clang of the church bells portend a major storm. Sure enough, snow that began as cotton-candy wisps has turned aggressive, piling on the siblings’ boots and shoulders.  
  
Charlie shakes out her hair and kicks her laden boot at Danny. She can’t even tell if the puff of white makes it to her brother in the snow-blindness, but he gamely objects:  
  
“Hey!”  
  
Charlie tries to giggle, but her lips are trembling too violently. She can hear her brother’s teeth chattering from here. A sudden tenderness overwhelms her, and hell, they’re outcasts in a foreign land, so what does the illicit part of their relationship even matter here? She reaches forward with both arms and pulls Danny against her bundled chest, burying her lips in his neck to seal in the warmth of his skin.  
  
“Ch-Charlie, don’t,” Danny objects, though technically there’s nothing wrong with hugging your brother. It’s just that they know, in their most private moments together, hugging turns to desperate need and, eventually, soul-quenching sex. They’ve been terrified this entire journey that Miles would discover their secret. There’s no conclusive evidence either way, but Miles isn’t exactly an idiot. He is, however, conveniently taciturn.  
  
Speak of the devil, Miles trudges back toward them, head bowed under the pitiless snow, an armload of firewood piled all the way up to his red, dripping nose. Eying them briefly, he grunts: “This way.”  
  
They follow him into what looks like a shed converted into a one-room apartment. There’s an armchair and a fireplace – that’s it.  
  
“Take off any clothes that are wet and lay ‘em out. I’ll make a fire,” Miles commands over a shoulder.  
  
Charlie and Danny begin stripping, but it’s hard to say when to stop. If they follow his instructions to the letter, they’ll be down to their underwear. They look at each other and then at Miles, who has, impressively as usual, called forth a respectable fire despite the wet wood. He’s peeling off his own clothes and doesn’t stop until he gets to his worn, grayed boxer shorts. Settling in the armchair, he closes his eyes and mumbles:  
  
“Well, go on, sack out. Might as well use the storm to get some sleep. Nobody in their right mind’ll be after us in this weather.” He finally cracks an eye. “If one of you catches pneumonia from prudishness, don’t blame me.”  
  
Charlie huffs, but obeys first, discarding her jeans and tank top. Clad only in her bra and panties, she slithers into her bedroll and watches Danny dive into his own sleeping bag, ejecting even his underwear. He is, apparently, soaked to the bone.  
  
It doesn’t take long for Danny’s breathing to become steady and even, but Charlie is, as usual, exiled from sleep by the anguish of losing her father and the uncertainty of the journey she’s on. Now and then, Miles quietly gets up to attend to the fire, but mostly he just sits slumped in the chair. After a very long while, she hears the minutest _slip, slip_ from his direction. Barely peeking from between her long eyelashes, she realizes Miles has his hand down his thin shorts. He must assume they’re all asleep.  
  
Rather than feeling disgust or shame, she’s instantly awash with sympathy, curiosity, even lust. From the moment Miles slayed fifty assailants single-handedly at The Grand till now, he’s ascended to superhero – invincible, fearless, willingly self-sacrificial. But at this moment, he’s only human with the same needs as she has. They’ve been on this trip for four long months, almost constantly in each other’s presence. The few times she and Danny have made love have been stolen moments by the river, “bathing,” or on hunting excursions.  
  
Almost soundlessly, Miles exhales – such a sexy, enticing admission of need that she plunges her own hand down her cotton panties, finding herself absurdly wet and puffy. She runs two fingers up and down her folds and then thrusts them inward, seeking to address a deep well of want. She rolls her head on her pillow to look at Miles in his chair again, and to her alarm, his eyes are trained on her now. She yanks her hand out in panic. But…he’s not stopping. He flops his head back against the ancient velvet and actually pulls all the way out his very large (and very lovely) penis, running his fingers up and down its pink, veined length.  
  
She spends a long moment trying to decide if it’s an invitation, and finally, extracts her long legs from her bedroll, sliding her underwear to the floor and approaching him cautiously. He doesn’t stop her; instead, he pulls her by the hand – rough fingers sizzling on her icy ones – straight into his lap. She repositions, lowering down his saliva-slippery cock, and has never felt so stuffed in her life. Danny is satisfying but nowhere near this formidable. She has to catch her breath and force herself to take him.  
  
Miles entangles his fingers in her golden waves, dragging his thumbs soothingly over her temples. She leans in to gently taste his lips – whiskey and salt – stubble-scratchy around the edges. They touch tongues, while slowly fucking each other. He remains so filling, so crammed up against her cervix, that she moans wantonly, forgetting that it’s imperative not to wake Danny.  
  
But of course, it’s too late for that. Miles stops kissing her, resting his chin on her shoulder presumably to watch Danny rise and shuffle toward the fire, adding wood. Miles’ hands fall to her hips to slide her up and down his cock, but her knees are beginning to stiffen from this angle. The heat of the fire behind her increases, and finally she extracts herself to turn around, stretch out her legs, and check on Danny.  
  
Miles pulls Charlie from behind back into his lap, so she’s sitting against the hard pole of his dick; he traces her nipples and the outlines of her breasts. Danny hasn’t thought (bothered?) to put back on his shorts, so the pale, shapely moon of his ass rounds before the orange glow.  
  
Charlie and Miles watch Danny add wood to the fire for what seems an eternal spellbound moment, until Miles finally grunts, “Danny.”  
  
As if in a trance, Danny shuffles over, and Miles prods Charlie off his lap. Wordlessly, Danny kneels before Miles and kisses at the base of the massive erection. Then he licks up the shaft and under the head with just the tip of his tongue, producing a perceptible shiver in his uncle. Charlie sinks down onto her knees beside the arm of the chair, and Miles reaches down to massage the roots of her hair. Imagining Danny tasting her on Miles’ cock makes her so wet, her own juices dribble down her thighs, as she leans rapturously into Miles’ touch.  
  
Finally, Miles rises and guides Danny over to his abandoned bedroll, ushering the smaller man onto all fours. Miles beckons Charlie over and they both crouch behind Danny’s perky ass. Charlie is way out of her league here – has never even thought about including this particular entrance in her sex play – but Miles shows her how to do it, licking his fingertips and pushing against the sphincter so it visibly pulses. They take turns caressing it, and eventually, Miles ventures inward, hooking into prostate. Danny nearly collapses in a moan, but Miles uses his other large, calloused hand to hold him. Then he removes his finger and guides Charlie to do the same. The inside of Danny is hot, tight, and slimy, and yet indescribably sexy.  
  
“Further,” Miles urges her. “Curl your finger.”  
  
She must hit the spot the second time, because again Miles has to cradle Danny to keep him from crumbling in on himself in ecstasy.  
  
After a long while of preparing Danny, Miles pumps himself back to life and lines up his cock for the part Charlie’s been desperately anticipating. Danny tenses, so Miles instructs:  
  
“Help him, Charlie.”  
  
She’s not exactly sure what Miles means for her to do, but she does feel for Danny and the impending intrusion of Miles’ massive penis. _He’s got to relax_ , she thinks, so she kneels in front of her brother and gathers his head onto her thighs. She hums while comfortingly stroking the blonde hairs from his face and watching the fire dance.  
  
“Uhh!” he cries out as Miles invades.  
  
“Shh,” Charlie soothes.  
  
Miles buries himself inch by inch, and when he finally contacts prostate, Danny whimpers almost imperceptibly, “Uncle Miles!”  
  
“Yeah,” Miles growls in approval, as he caringly, firmly fucks Danny from behind.  
  
When Danny starts to get used to it, he settles further into Charlie’s lap and begins licking her. Charlie spreads her knees apart a bit to give him better access, and he thrusts inward, tangling up her innards in a desperate little knot that demands release.  
  
Charlie closes her eyes against the _thwap, thwap_ of Miles’ balls hitting Danny’s skin and senses as Danny reaches for his own hanging dick to pump himself. The two men come together, Miles grinding forward and biting his lip against a moan, while Danny cries out release into Charlie’s folds.  
  
It’s astoundingly hot, but she needs more pressure if she’s to follow them to her high. She lies back, allowing them space to disentangle themselves. With her eyes closed, she begins to drift off toward slumber. But in a moment, she feels two sets of lips competing for access to her clit – one set cracked and surrounded by prickles and the other familiarly soft and pliable. She can’t tell whose tongue is inside her and whose is pulsing into her clit. With the soles of her feet flat on the ground, she lets her legs fall open as wide as she can, one of the tongues exploring her so deeply now – but still so maddeningly pliable – she feels like she’ll loose her mind. Someone finally takes mercy on her and replaces the tongue on her nub and inside her with fingers she can grind against and into. At last, a ripple of muscle contractions jettison her to ecstasy. A frantic jumble of words: _Oh, Danny, Miles, yes!_ might have otherwise embarrassed her, if she weren’t so utterly besotted in afterglow.  
  
She opens her eyes to see Miles extract glistening fingers from her folds. He leans forward to kiss her. Then Danny takes his turn for a peck. All night, the three lie naked, entangled, except for those moments when Miles tends to the fire, securing their cozy nest. Charlie sleeps extravagantly contented for the first time in months (or, she fears to think, _ever_ ).  
  
  



	2. Sunlight

Sunlight streams in through the drawn curtains and the slats of the ramshackle abode. Danny and Charlie wake together, their legs entwined, morning chill nipping at their cheeks. But the fire is still puffing along – evidence that Miles has been constantly caring for them. He must have also covered them with every blanket in their possession, because they are positively weighed down under layer upon layer of quilt.  
  
Charlie stretches her arms out of their cocoon and glances about the empty room. No Miles in sight. A flash of dread nearly convinces her that he’s so ashamed of what they did last night that he’s taken off, but in a moment, she hears the stamp of boots on the threshold, the rush of frigid air from the door, and then, the familiar whiskey-river-dirt scent of Miles mingles with fresh bread and grassy tea.  
  
“Breakfast,” Miles announces gruffly, removing his boots, but there is an almost undetectable buoyant edge to his voice.  
  
Neither Matheson sibling is particularly keen on the idea of discarding their blankets, but Miles kneels next to their faces with an open thermos. “Course, I’m happy to drink all this tea and eat all this bread myself, if you two are too lazy to get up.”  
  
They scramble then, kicking each other a few times for good measure, and begin to pull on their fire-toasty clothes. Everything they don smells deliciously of smoke.  
  
Miles offers a hand to help up Danny from putting on his socks and asks him quietly, almost privately, “Ok?”  
  
“Yeah. Never better,” Danny assures with a brilliant flash of white teeth. Charlie smiles at them, her chest full of love.  
  
The three sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the fire and eat and drink in comfortable silence, for what could they possibly have to say when they spend nearly every conceivable moment together? The Tower looms before them, though, and this distresses Charlie. A return of Power could mean return of the old order – a world she scarcely remembers, but one that would surely police this taboo.  
  
 _Who gets to say what a family is and is not?_ she laments in frustration. These two men are all she has. And they meet her needs in totality.


	3. Blue

It is several days later that they find themselves before a formidable ice-encrusted lake. Last night, Miles purloined winter clothes off a sleeping family, and when Danny and Charlie had disapproved, he’d simply responded: “We need it more than they do.” Callous but practical. Consequently, they’re all bundled like Eskimos and, though neither Charlie nor Danny cares to admit it, grateful to Miles.  
  
With resignation, Miles orders, “Me first. I’m heaviest, and if the ice cracks on anyone, it’ll be me.”  
  
The impending danger settles over the group like a storm cloud, though the sky is clear as truth today, blue untarnished by a single dimple of white.  
  
Ominous crackling radiates from Miles’ boots, as he picks his way forward, warning them to keep their distance. It happens in an instant, stealing Charlie’s breath away: the ice gives, and Miles splashes into the frozen abyss, managing to just hang onto the edge. Charlie and Danny slide over on their bellies like penguins, desperately pulling on his arms. The edges of the fractured ice hold for now. After Danny thinks to use a steady tree branch, they manage to provide enough resistance for Miles to muscle his way out, gasping for breath. He immediately begins crawling toward the opposite shore, his companions scampering after him.  
  
The air temperature is warmer today, but it dawns on Charlie that every subsequent moment is vital to keeping Miles alive.  
  
“M-m-make a fire,” he barks, pulling off every last stitch of clothing, his bluish skin contrasting luridly with the white snow. Charlie is so dazed by fear that she only dimly takes in Danny’s attempt to get a blaze going. _Make a shelter_ , she finally instructs herself. She falls to her knees, tearing through their rolls for blankets, laying down several as a barrier against the cold snow, and using tree branches to prop up others as a half-shelter.  
  
Naked as the day he was born, Miles is grunting into push-ups, patches of his skin now ugly red. The fire finally smokes to life at the entrance to the shelter, and Miles crawls in with the younger two trailing after him. Charlie tries to rub Miles’ frozen hands, but he shakes his head.  
  
“A-a-armpits and groin. S-skin on skin.”  
  
It takes Charlie and Danny some time to discern the instructions, but when they do, they anxiously strip down to the nude. Danny’s hands are warmer, so he gathers Miles’ head into his lap and buries his hands in the soft fur of Miles’ armpits. Charlie lies down on top of Miles, attempting to mentally divert all her warmth into his soft, vulnerable groin. His shivering eventually begins to subside.  
  
Danny finally asks, “Are you going to be okay, Uncle Miles?”  
  
“I think. Good job with the fire,” Miles admires, peering at it from beneath their makeshift tent. Danny’s survival skills have come a long way.  
  
Charlie realizes Miles is improving when she starts to feel his penis harden beneath her and his arms encircle her and squeeze. They all seem to realize at the same moment that they want the same thing – the thing they’ve been depriving themselves of these past few days of constant momentum and scarce sleep.  
  
Charlie rubs luxuriantly against Miles, the scratch of hair on hair, her wetness loosening the friction of their delicate skin. Danny extracts his hands from Miles’ armpits to trail through his chest hair. When Charlie feeds Miles into her, she’s not sure if it’s the shock his body has just been through or if they’ve simply grown closer, and he’s more willing to let his guard down, but he moans. The sound gets Danny too. He begins sliding his hard dick against Miles’ neck, because it’s the nearest thing. Miles spits in his hand and reaches up to jerk Danny, hard and slow.  
  
The angle is odd, so after a while, Danny disentangles himself and crawls around to lie atop Charlie and Miles, who are now fucking with their hands intertwined, both of them making desperate _uhs_ , whispering each other’s names. Danny pushes his cock down between Charlie’s legs so that it is ensconced by her bum and hammers down against Miles’ tight balls.  
  
Miles loses himself almost immediately, coming deep within Charlie, and that sets her off; she squeezes her muscles so tightly that Danny must feel it, because he’s spasming, too. They come almost simultaneously, shivering into each other, grasping for whatever body parts are nearby.  
  
They collapse in a pile of limbs, Charlie’s lips right by Miles’ earlobe, which she kisses delicately. Danny is flopped with a cheek on her back and kisses her shoulder blade.  
  
Charlie whispers, “You okay, Miles?”  
  
He just grunts and half grins. He is bearing a considerable load of humans at the moment; it’s hard to speak.  
  
Finally, she allows herself to say what’s been on her mind these past days, or maybe from the moment her father first bid her on this quest. “I don’t want to go to the Tower. Don’t want to turn back on the lights. I just want you. Both of you.”  
  
Danny murmurs, “Me too,” as he rolls aside to get comfortable.  
  
Miles tilts up Charlie’s chin with a finger. “Well, we’re all the way down here now. Might as well make our way to Mexico – somewhere warm. I never need to see snow again.” He kisses her nose and sighs.  
  
She nuzzles into Miles’ scratchy neck and reaches back to lace her fingers into Danny’s. And so they begin the journey they’ve chosen for themselves.


End file.
